Today's Reading
"I am," Diana replied. "Allow me to present you to my sister-in-law, Miss Boyle."
Mr. Pryce looked as if he'd just been informed he'd won a lottery. "Miss Boyle, a pleasure," he said, and he smiled so happily at her that Mildred's own expression lightened reflexively.
They all sat in silence while Mr. Pryce stared at Diana, a grin on his face, and Diana wondered if she was not as socially inept as she had heretofore thought herself because she could never imagine behaving as awkwardly as he was. And while she believed she presented a neat and pleasant appearance, she did not think her charms so great as to cause him to be stricken mute at the sight of her. Diana knew he was most likely comparing her to her older, formidably plain sister-in-law, and so the comparison would inevitably be in her favor.
However, Diana was doing herself an injustice. Having been married at eighteen to a man thirty-five years her senior, she had never had a suitor and so did not realize how attractive she was. Her silky black hair had fallen out of its confines and was in wisps around her face, framing a countenance that was sweet rather than striking. Shy by nature, she frequently cast her eyes downward, so that when she did meet a person's gaze one was struck by the beauty of her large amber-colored eyes with their long dark eyelashes. Certainly, Mr. Pryce had noticed that his hostess was a very lovely young woman.
The silence was growing more and more awkward, their guest apparently having forgotten that he should offer a reason for his call, and so Mildred finally prodded him to do so. "I do not believe we've previously made your acquaintance," she said, her expression having hardened again into its usual rigid lines.
"No, not exactly," Mr. Pryce said. As Diana and Mildred continued staring at him in silent inquiry, he must have finally become conscious of the strained atmosphere, because he stopped grinning and said to Diana: "That is, I am acquainted with a distant relation of your late husband's, and since I was in the vicinity—"
"A relation of mine? Who, pray tell?" Mildred interrupted him to ask.
Mr. Pryce turned to her, a disconcerted expression on his face, as if it had just occurred to him that a relation of Mr. Boyle's would also be related to Mr. Boyle's sister. "Mr. Cartwright," he finally said, before correcting himself. "That is, Mr. Carter. Or perhaps it was Carnes? Started with a Cah sound, at any rate. It was a brief acquaintance," he mumbled sheepishly, before looking again at Diana, fear writ large in his brown eyes.
Mildred took a deep breath, her bosom expanding impressively, and Diana closed her eyes, as she had begun to pity poor Mr. Pryce, perhaps because of his youthful appearance and his obvious inability to lie. Before the volcano could erupt, however, they were again interrupted by Godfrey.
"Lord Jerome Vincent," he announced, and Mr. Pryce, who had at first seemed to view the butler's appearance in the nature of a deus ex machina, saw who was with him and frowned.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Boyle," Lord Jerome said, approaching Mildred with a charming smile, though it faltered just a bit when he saw her.
"I am Mrs. Boyle," Diana said, wondering what in the world was happening.
Lord Jerome turned to Diana, and though his countenance gave little away, Diana thought she detected a hint of relief in his sardonic gaze. "I see," he said, and somehow the way he drew out those two words, along with the look that accompanied them, made them seem very suggestive, indeed.
Mr. Pryce pokered up even more at this interchange and said to Lord Jerome, "I might have expected to find you here."
"And why was that?" Lord Jerome asked. Diana and Mildred looked at Mr. Pryce inquiringly as well.
Mr. Pryce flushed a dark red. "No reason," he finally said, and Mildred rolled her eyes and said something under her breath, though the words "half-wit" could be faintly heard.
* * *
Somehow the two gentlemen ended up staying for dinner, though Diana wasn't sure how they accomplished it. She felt that she could have overcome Mr. Pryce's feeble attempts to wrangle an invitation, but even Mildred had proved no match for Lord Jerome. He looked to be in his thirties and was neither handsome nor ugly, but had such an air of sophistication that he gave the impression of being much better looking than he actually was.
...
